The Mirror Made Me Do It, Part 3

“Anne! What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d drop in and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, well,” Red furrowed her brow in puzzlement, wondering how Anne had discovered where she lived. Surely her address hadn’t been in Anne’s files. “Er… this isn’t a great time. I’ve just…”

“You should invite me in, Red.”

“Won’t you please come in?” Red blinked as the words left her mouth. But then, it was only polite, wasn’t it?

“Thank you.” Anne smiled. Red opened the door fully, revealing herself in the process. “Oh, what a lovely kimono,” Anne commented as she entered. “Very short and quite suggestive. It suits you.”

Red closed the door behind Anne, her mind still puzzled as to why Anne was here. Red valued her privacy and had so few visitors… in fact, now that she thought about it, Anne was quite possibly the first she’d had, if she didn’t count her father.

Red surveyed the expansive apartment, trying to envision it from Anne's perspective, as if seeing it for the first time. To Anne’s right, there sat a collection of plush black leather sofas and chairs emanating comfort and luxury, sharing an open-plan space with the spacious kitchen that lay directly ahead. The kitchen had come furnished with modern conveniences, yet was noticeably absent of the usual clutter of cooking utensils and spices one might expect. Red had never needed to learn how to cook, rendering the space largely unused in that regard.

To Anne's left, situated on the far side of the room and partially concealed by the protruding bathroom wall, was the bedroom. A wall acted as a divider between the kitchen and bedroom, creating two separate areas within the apartment; the entrance to the bedroom was an open arch, too sizable to be considered a mere doorway. A section of the bed was visible, giving an impression of its considerable size and offering a glimpse into its unmade state, suggesting that Red had recently occupied it. She couldn't help but cringe at the trail of garments scattered across the floor, discarded as she’d removed them only two or three hours earlier.

A deep-pile cream carpet extended throughout the apartment, harmoniously blending with the cream walls that ascended to high ceilings, with light sconces spread evenly throughout. Above the bed hung a small chandelier, adding a further elegant touch.

Anne took a few steps forward, scanning her surroundings before turning to Red. "It's very spacious," she remarked, her appreciation evident. Red smiled gratefully; she had always cherished that aspect of her home, and it seemed Anne shared her sentiment.

Red noticed that her silk robe had slipped within the sash, exposing more cleavage than intended—a familiar situation given the smoothness of the material. Out of habit her fingers dropped reflexively to adjust it; she was completely nude beneath and had no wish to inadvertently offend her guest.

“Oh, don’t do that on my account.” Anne interjected firmly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “I was enjoying the view.”

A flush spread across Red's cheeks in response to the older woman's comment. She was aware that her fair complexion accentuated the contrast when she blushed, and it always made her feel self-conscious. She hardly noticed that her fingers had stopped short of her sash. More disconcerting was the inexplicable hardening of her nipples, their prominence pressing against the silk fabric of her robe. It seemed as though her body had reacted to Anne's casual appraisal or, perhaps, the tone of her voice.

Red was flustered that her nipples now protruded against her kimono, the material so delicate that Anne was sure to notice. What ever would she think? Red had never been attracted to women, making her physical response all the more surprising; yet, there was something different about Anne… she seemed somehow more sensual, more confident than Red remembered. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed when they’d originally met, a mere day ago. Could someone change so much in such a short span of time?

It was difficult to reconcile the fact that so little time had passed since their original encounter, considering the distances involved. They had met on the other side of the country only yesterday, and now, surprisingly, Anne was here.

Red’s thoughts were interrupted as Anne spoke again. “It’s such a lovely kimono. Perhaps you could model it for me. Why don’t you walk over here?” Anne gestured gracefully, indicating a path across the plush carpet.

Red was already moving before Anne had quite finished speaking, which was slightly disconcerting; why had she obeyed so readily? But then, Anne had asked in a gracious manner, and the request itself was undeniably flattering. In response, Red added a subtle sway to her hips: it seemed to harmonize with Anne's intent.

There was a brief silence as Anne observed Red’s slow and deliberate walk through her apartment, modelling as bid. Red tried to imagine what Anne was seeing: the kimono, clinging to Red’s slim figure, the delicate fabric not concealing the shape of her firm breasts, her firm nubs pushing embarrassingly against the silk, evidence of the arousal she was inexplicably feeling; the robe draping over her ass, barely covering it yet revealing its contours; her long legs, showcased to perfection by the robe’s brevity; and her bare feet, which perhaps contributed to an overall sense of vulnerability in her portrayal. Why had the thought of vulnerability come to mind? She didn’t feel vulnerable… did she?

“It’s not quite as short as the dress you wore for Steven, but it’s not far off,” Anne noted as she watched. “I imagine you couldn’t bend very far without hinting at that delicious bottom of yours.”

Anne's comment caught Red off guard, causing her steps to falter and her confidence to waver. The weight of Anne's words settled upon her, leaving Red with a whirlwind of thoughts to process. How was Anne aware of the dress she wore for Steven? Had she been present at the restaurant that night? If so, what had she witnessed? For that matter, how had she known Steven’s name? And the mention of her bottom...! It was an unexpected and audacious remark that left Red momentarily speechless, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of Anne's knowledge and bold commentary.

“Would you like to show me?” Anne inquired, a playful smile on her lips.

“Excuse me?” Red's voice wavered with a mix of confusion and indignation; she was quite discombobulated, feeling as though she had been struggling to catch up with Anne ever since her arrival.

“Turn around and bend for me, dear. I would love to see what happens when you do.”

Phrased like that it seemed a most reasonable request, and Red turned gracefully, presenting her bottom for Anne’s inspection. She modestly leaned forward, feeling the hem of her silk robe rise marginally as she did.

“Oh, wonderfully tantalising, but it is just a smidge too long. A little more, please.”

Red complied, reaching for the dividing wall for support while maintaining the straightness of her legs. She bent further, her sash slipped another inch as her breasts pushed more firmly against the silk. At some level, Red questioned why she had so readily followed Anne's suggestion; she was little more than a stranger, they hardly knew one another, and now she was obeying her suggestions mere moments after her arrival. But surely that was a churlish thought: Anne had been nothing but polite and inquisitive.

“Mmm, perfect,” Anne purred, “A delectable hint of curve. Stay like that for me.”

Red's mind filled with consternation as she contemplated whether she had bent enough to inadvertently expose her bare vulva to Anne. Yet if the curve of her lower bottom was visible, so too would be the gap at the top of her thighs. She silently hoped that Anne wouldn't take offense.

It was quite the surprise when Anne’s fingers glided over Red’s lower bottom, just beneath the hem of her robe. The thick carpet had clearly muffled Anne's approach, and the overly intimate caress caused Red to startle. Though a part of her desired to object, to straighten up and politely distance herself, she found herself immobilized by some inexplicable force – perhaps it was simply that she was too polite – or too surprised – to object. Red remained as she was, bending as requested, her body unresisting as the other woman’s fingers traced a delicate path along her skin. Nervously, Red chewed on her lower lip, her mind pondering the possibilities. Perhaps Anne harboured an attraction to women, or maybe she merely derived aesthetic enjoyment from Red's modelling. Regardless, Anne's touch lingered, leaving Red caught in a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

“There is nothing more beautiful than the feminine form,” Anne murmured quietly, her fingers lazily brushing across to the curve of Red’s other cheek. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Anne had verbalized the very thoughts that occupied Red's mind. While it offered a measure of comfort that Anne's interest appeared to primarily revolve around Red's beauty, for some reason she couldn’t help feel a faint sense of disappointment. Anne's gentle strokes and caresses stirred the growing arousal within Red, making her response of "Yes" slightly rushed and breathy, betraying her heightened state.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” Anne’s fingers lingered, tracing across Red’s smooth skin.

Red chewed nervously on her lip, feeling her skin flush in embarrassment at the combination of her exposure and the audacious of Anne’s question. How could she possibly answer? Why was she even in such a position?

“Answer me.” Anne murmured, quietly insistent.

“Yes… yes, I like it.” Red admitted, a mixture of nervousness and arousal evident in her tone.

“Why? Tell me.”

“It… excites me… and makes me feel vulnerable.” Why had she admitted to that?

As Red said ‘vulnerable’, Anne’s fingers stilled for a fleeting moment on Red’s skin, so brief she might have imagined it, before continuing their lingering caress.

“Well. I do enjoy you presented like this. You have such a delicious little bottom.” Anne gave one cheek a couple of final pats. “However, we’ve much to do. Turn around, let me look at you.”

A mix of relief and a natural inclination to obey surged within Red as she seized the opportunity to straighten up. It felt almost instinctive to comply—to want to comply. She turned, presenting herself to Anne, ensuring her posture remained impeccable with a straight spine, relaxed shoulders, and chin held high. For some inexplicable reason, it felt crucial that Anne found her pleasing.

Anne took a small step closer, encroaching upon Red's personal space. Though their heights were comparable, the contrast between them became evident. Red, barefoot and clad only in her ever-slipping kimono, stood in contrast to Anne's formal suit and elevated stature granted by her heels. Both elements served to emphasize the control Anne had wielded since Red had opened the door, amplifying the inexplicable sense of vulnerability that still permeated Red's being. Was she afraid of Anne? Or was it simply the sudden desire to please that made her feel vulnerable? She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to please Anne; Anne wasn't typically the type of person Red went out of her way to impress. Yet, she couldn't deny that she had willingly and diligently fulfilled every request since Anne's arrival, giving her utmost effort to comply.

“Such a pretty little thing you are,” Anne murmured, as one hand came up to cup Red’s cheek while the ball of her thumb rubbed across Red’s lips. It was a possessive gesture, and Red’s lips parted submissively upon Anne’s touch. Anne smiled, clearly relishing Red’s response, and with a hint of dominance she guided the tip of her thumb between Red's slightly-opened lips, venturing into her mouth. Red closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation as her tongue tentatively flicked against Anne's probing digit, an unconscious response driven by deep-seated arousal.

It was as if she couldn't resist.

Red knew she was indeed responding, her desire fuelling the natural parting of her lips—an implicit permission that Anne had taken advantage of – but conscious or not, Red could no more control her response than she could refuse Anne’s wishes. The sudden, overwhelming sense of submission she felt caused a shiver to run down her spine, even as Anne’s thumb ventured further, the intrusion eliciting a mix of pleasure and surrender within Red's mouth.

The recognition of her submission served to reinforce their dynamic, further shifting the balance of power in Anne's favour. Remarkably, in the mere moments since Anne's arrival, Red had willingly modelled, presented herself in the most revealing of positions, held that position unresistingly while Anne intimately explored her, verbalised her arousal and vulnerability, succumbed to Anne's penetration of her mouth, and was now licking submissively in response. Emotions swirled within Red's mind, creating a whirlwind of conflicting feelings, but one thing was clear: she no longer had any control. Complete dominance was now Anne’s, asserting itself from the very moment she had stepped into Red's apartment.

“Gosh, I’m ever so fond of this kimono,” Anne murmured, slipping her hand from Red’s face and lightly trailing her fingers down… over her chin, her neck, her throat. The robe had parted such that it was open almost to Red’s navel, and Anne’s light touch served to emphasise how much skin Red was showing. Glancing down, Red could glimpse the curves of the sides of both breasts, her erect nipples barely covered. Anne’s fingers traced a path between Red’s breasts, yet she refrained from allowing her thumb, moistened with Red’s own saliva, to make contact. The movement of her hand mesmerised Red, and she could only watch as it slipped slightly to the side, beneath the silk, Anne’s wet thumb depositing Red’s saliva over one stiff nipple.

A small whimper escaped at the touch, but Red was unable – or unwilling – to resist, her breath catching in her throat as Anne gently toyed with her.

“You will enjoy doing as I say, won’t you?” Anne said, though it was as much a statement as a question, her thumb flicking idly back and forth over Red’s nipple, sending tremors of sensation through her body. Red’s saliva made the contact ever so slightly silkier, which, in Red’s mind, added immeasurably to the sensuality.

Red nodded jerkily, fully aroused by the older woman’s simple touch. “Yes… yes, I will,” and it sounded like a promise. ‘I will’? What am I saying! Red thought. Why had Anne made her so flustered? What had gotten into her? It was so hard to think clearly through the fog of her own arousal.

“So tell me, Red, have you enjoyed your reflection of late?” The ball of her thumb rubbed slight circles around Red’s stiff nipple, and such was the distraction that it took Red a moment to register Anne’s comment.

And then it was obvious that Anne knew everything, even though Red could not fathom how. Anne seemed intricately connected and involved, though the specifics of her involvement remained elusive. While these revelations should have given Red pause, prompting her to question and hesitate, she found herself already forming a response, perplexingly unable to hold back.

“Yes... but the mirror has made me do so much," Red admitted, her words sounding like a protest, but carrying the weight of understanding, acknowledging the profound influence the mirror had exerted over her actions and choices, albeit tinged with a blend of resignation and disbelief. It was an admission of the transformative power the mirror held, the way it had guided her decisions and shaped her experiences.

“Have you enjoyed it?”

Red felt herself blush and looked down in shame and humiliation.

“Answer me,” Anne insisted.

Red couldn’t help but respond, her reply a bare whisper. “Yes, I have.”

"The mirror shows only what is already inside you, is that not true?" Anne's words hung in the air, challenging Red's perception of the mirror's capabilities.

Red desperately hoped that wasn't true. After all, hadn't the mirror revealed things to her that had not yet come to pass? And yet, as time unfolded, those visions, too, had become reality. Red's response faltered, "Yes... I... I suppose so."

Perhaps what Anne had said was true, perhaps the mirror did only show true reflections, and its magic was to show the future, too. The thought was both unsettling and fascinating; she thought she might have been compelled, even hoped she had been compelled, because at least then she need not blame herself for what had happened. But if she hadn’t been compelled, perhaps she’d merely been guided, and that meant the decisions she’d made – the things she’d done – were entirely of her own choosing. The ambiguity of it all filled her with a sense of unease, intermingled with an undercurrent of shame.

Red had come to terms with the fact that the mirror was magic in some way. At first she’d thought she was going mad, but the influence of the mirror had been so strong it proved to her that it was more than merely what Red saw within. Hadn’t the mirror made her come? Hadn’t it physically affected her in ways that Red couldn’t have done herself? When she’d felt that overwhelming desire to taste all of Steven’s body, and come when she did so… or when Steven took her ass, as another example… would she have orgasmed as she had - when she had - if the mirror hadn’t somehow influenced her?

Yet, Anne's assertion remained undeniably true, regardless of any resistance Red might have had. Perhaps every action Red had taken, driven by the mirror's influence, had actually aligned with her own desires. It was impossible to ascertain the truth, and that uncertainty, above all else, struck fear within her.

"Do you like who you are becoming?" Anne's question jolted Red out of her contemplation, snapping her back to the present.

Looking up, Red's eyes revealed a flicker of fear within. "It... frightens me. It's an overwhelming experience," she confessed, voicing the intensity of her emotions.

Anne’s hand slid fully beneath the kimono, cupping and squeezing Red’s breast, and Red couldn’t help the little gasp it stimulated. Anne smiled as she heard it; it seemed to please her. "Intense, yes... but do you like it?" Anne pressed further, seeking a direct response.

Red contemplated the sexual awakenings she had undergone, that the mirror had introduced her to – whether or not it had directly compelled Red or simply given her a push. She shivered at the possibility that it was the latter, cringing with another wave of shame at the thought of what she had willingly done. Yet, upon reflection, she could only admit that she had found enjoyment in each of those encounters. Shame, yes, degradation too… but so much pleasure. It was a truth she couldn't deny: she did like it.

The orgasms alone had been more intense, more fulfilling, than any she had ever previously experienced. Even in that moment, as Anne’s fingers flicked over her nipple, her awakening continued, for never before had she been with a woman, or even thought she was attracted to women, yet she could not deny how aroused she was.

But it was embarrassing to discuss such things with Anne, who was still a near-stranger – despite the hand that was gently squeezing Red’s breast – so she stayed quiet, unable to find her voice.

Anne didn’t seem pleased at her lack of response, and her fingers moved to pull and twist Red’s nipple. “Answer me,” Anne demanded.

“Yes, I like it,” Red gasped even as Anne tweaked her nipple, and she blushed deeply at her own admission, unable to meet Anne’s eyes, and worse, fearing from Anne’s tone that maybe she had displeased. Yet Anne’s smile had returned when she’d heard Red’s response, and her hand had gone back to gently cupping and squeezing Red’s breast.

“Please… may I ask a question?” Red didn’t know why she’d asked so submissively, it had just seemed appropriate.

“Of course you can, my dear.” Anne’s fingers continued to play with Red’s breast, as though it was the most entertaining toy.

“How do you know about the mirrors?” Red chewed nervously on her lower lip, trying to resist the building feelings that Anne’s hand was causing, while worried that her question had been too direct and might upset her guest.

But Anne didn’t seem upset, for she merely smiled and ran Red’s nipple through her fingers. “The answer to that is complicated, dear girl. Let me simply say that I am the mirror’s caretaker.”

Red’s brow furrowed; Anne seemed to be referring to a single mirror, but Red’s reflection had influenced her from a diversity of mirrors. Then with a jolt she remembered the mirror she’d seen in the house Anne had shown her: ornate, ancient-looking, ill-suited to that house, and with the horrible face at its apex. How could she have forgotten? Unless that too was part of the mirror’s magic.

“The mirror you showed me in the house. With the leering face.“

Anne smiled. “Yes. I am surprised you remember it. But you’ve always been particularly sensitive.”

“Is the mirror yours?”

“No, it is not mine,” Anne replied whimsically, holding her hand slightly away until only Red’s nipple brushed her palm.

“Can… can the mirror make me do things?” Red asked desperately, pushing her breast more firmly into Anne’s touch.

Anne smiled, “Make you do things?” Her hand closed again on Red’s breast, squeezing firmly. “How would it do that? As I said earlier… it reflects only what is within you.”

Red felt another wash of shame and embarrassment as Anne confirmed her fears: the mirror hadn’t compelled her, she’d retained her free will, her freedom of choice, and what she’d done was entirely on her. Yet at some level Red struggled to reconcile this; hadn’t she felt her body be moved by the mirror? Her head, forced to nod in the changing room, for example. Or was that her imagination, her wishful thinking, her defence for the degrading acts she’d willingly committed? Oh, it was so confusing, and still Anne’s hand caressed her breast. How could she think clearly when Anne stoked her arousal so? But there was one more thought she’d had, one more question she wanted to ask.

“Can you make me do things, Anne?”

Anne’s smile widened. “What do you think, dear girl?” she asked, even as her fingertip flicked over Red’s aching nipple.

Red thought about it, considering what had happened since Anne had entered her apartment, such a short while before. To be sure, Red had been ever so quick to obey, almost as if she were being compelled – although it didn’t feel like it. Perhaps she’d responded in ways that were a little out of character, but then Red now recognised that Anne was a very special woman. True, Red had fulfilled all of Anne's requests, but she found solace in the fact that Anne's appeals had been reasonable, courteous, and even polite. In fact, Red had to admit to herself that she had genuinely wanted to comply with the things Anne had asked of her.

“No… I suppose that would be too far-fetched… and, besides, there’s no mirror here.” It was as if she spoke to herself as she voiced her thoughts.

Anne’s smile remained. “How true, dear, how true, and how clever of you to realise it so.”

Red felt a warmth suffuse her at Anne’s admiration, and she smiled gratefully at the older woman.

A knock at the door startled Red, but Anne was apparently unsurprised.

“Ah!” she slipped her hand from inside Red’s robe as she turned toward the door, “The first of our deliveries is here. Be a good girl and go and see who that is.”

Red obediently made her way towards the door, her hands instinctively reaching for the sash at her waist, but Anne forestalled her. “There’s no need to adjust your kimono, dear.”

No doubt Anne was correct, no doubt she looked respectable enough as she was, but she couldn’t help think that her robe was now so open that her breasts were almost fully on display, her nipples barely covered – and that is if she was faced directly. From any side angle, anyone would certainly be able to glimpse her tight, pink nipples. She chewed her lower lip nervously as she approached the door. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the two sides of her kimono now barely overlapped beneath the sash, which meant that any movement at all risked flashing her perfectly smooth pussy to any interested party. On balance, she’d have much preferred to rearrange her kimono, but if Anne felt it was unnecessary, perhaps Red was merely being prudish.

She opened her door with reluctance, while keeping herself as much behind it as she possibly could.

“Morning, Ma’am,” a man dressed in a UPS uniform stood in her doorway, holding a large box in a way that suggested it was quite heavy. “Delivery for Ms. Sinclair?”

“Um… yes,” Red’s brow furrowed. “How did you get past the front desk?”

“Oh, that was me,” Anne clarified helpfully, and Red saw she’d moved near the sofas. “I let your concierge know that you’d have several visitors today.”

Red stared at Anne. Several visitors? With her apartment in the state it was in, clothes strewn about? And… Red herself, dressed like this? Perhaps Anne wouldn’t mind if she went to put on some proper clothes – perhaps immediately after this delivery.

The UPS man cleared his throat. “Sorry, miss, but this box is quite heavy. Could I…?”

"Let him in, Red," Anne's commanding voice left no room for any alternative response, prompting Red to step back and fully open the door as instructed.

The man's reaction was quite well controlled, for his eyes betrayed only a slight widening before swiftly glancing over Red's figure. His gaze lingered, seemingly caressing her from head to toe, observing the blush on her face, the bareness of her toes fidgeting uneasily against the carpet, and every detail in between.

"Pop it down over here, would you?" Anne gestured towards a spot beside the coffee table, positioned in front of the sofas.

"Of course, ma'am," the man responded obligingly, drawing his eyes from Red with obvious reluctance. He carried the package through Red's apartment, providing momentary relief as his back turned towards Red, putting an end to his earlier ogling. Red's fingers twitched with the desire to readjust her kimono, but Anne’s suggestion to leave it as it was seemed reasonable enough. Perhaps she could at least position herself by the door, avoiding drawing too much attention to herself, hopeful that the man would soon depart.

He carefully lowered the box to the carpet beside Red's coffee table, letting out a relieved sigh as he straightened up, a hand easing the small of his back.

"Perfect. And I wonder if I could impose on your kindness, young man," Anne smiled.

"Ma'am?"

"Well, it's such a hassle to unwrap a package as heavy as this, and someone as strong as you would do it so much more easily than either of us ladies."

He hesitated, aware of the rules. "Well... we're not really allowed..."

"Oh, but wouldn't you, just this once?"

After a moment's contemplation, he shrugged. "No problem, ma'am. But..." He reached for his mobile pad, drawing it from his belt. "...you will have to sign for it first."

"Red will take care of that," Anne replied, casting a glance towards the door. The UPS man turned to look as well. "Red?"

Red swallowed nervously. There was no way she’d be able to walk to the sofas without giving the man quite a show, but there was no other option. Chin up, shoulders back, and small movements, she decided; yes, perhaps that would help keep her robe from flapping too much and offering teasing glimpses of her vulva with every step.

The man watched her intently as she approached, his eyes roaming over her. Even Anne was enjoying the view, a small smile on her lips. Red resisted the urge to shiver beneath their gazes, and tried to maintain her composure.

She edged around the corner of the sofa and approached the man directly, trying to keep as square on as possible so as to avoid affording him glimpses of her nipples. Nipples which, she was well aware, were hard, pointy nubs, jutting obscenely against the thin silk that barely covered them, making it clear to anyone who saw them just how aroused Red was, and had been since shortly after Anne’s arrival.

The UPS man proffered his device towards Red. “Please sign on the screen, miss.”

She raised a hand to do so, trying not to think how that might make her kimono gape further – or worse, rise at the bottom, where there was already an opening in the fabric that aligned with the top of her thighs – and concentrated on writing her name even as the man’s eyes seemed to roam over her.

“That’s a lovely kimono,” he murmured, his voice slightly husky, then seemed to collect himself and added a belated, “…if you don’t mind me saying so, miss.”

Anne stepped slightly forward. “Isn’t it though?” She smiled at the young man, then fixed her eyes on Red. “Perhaps you could display it properly for us both. Raise your arms up and give us a twirl, Red.”

Red looked at her in shock. “A twirl?” but even as she voiced a protest her body was obeying, her arms extending gracefully like a ballerina, her body turning, her weight perfectly balanced over one straight leg. Raising her arms had caused the robe to rise several inches; as it rose she felt it brush against her ass much as it had when she had bent for Anne, and that could only mean she was also bearing her naked, perfectly-smooth vulva and the glistening shine at the apex of her thighs, that she had tried, and failed, to hide in the shadow of her kimono.

She completed her turn, facing toward them again, a deep blush tingeing her cheeks. The UPS man was staring with wide eyes at the hem of her robe, and Red lowered her arms quickly – perhaps too quickly, for she felt the sash slip another inch – much more and she may as well be fully nude. She couldn’t help but glance down to check the damage her twirl had done, and her blush deepened. Now it was obvious that there was a hint of pink nipple on each side of her gaping robe, her areola peeking out, even when she was facing straight; she had likely widened the gap at the bottom, too, and couldn’t help but wonder if the kimono now offered her any modesty at all. There was no doubt in her mind that her little display had given both the UPS man and Anne ample chance to see her bare breasts, the bottom curve of her ass, and more likely than not a glimpse of her sex. She lowered her eyes in mortification, unable to meet their gazes.

“Lovely!” Anne remarked, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would indeed,” the young man’s voice seemed strained, and since Red had so shamefully exposed herself to him like this, at least she could take sadistic pleasure in his blue-balled discomfort.

“The package, if you will, please.” Anne reminded him, and the man started slightly, as though he’d been lost in thought as he’d stared at Red.

“Mmm, yes. Of course,” he responded, reaching for a Stanley knife from his tool belt. Red observed him discreetly adjusting his clothing as well, attempting to make himself more at ease. It would have been more subtle and less overt if he hadn’t been quite clearly aroused and standing opposite two women. Anne, however, appeared to find the situation amusing. The man blushed and swiftly turned his attention to the package on the coffee table, effortlessly slicing through the shipping tape. He glanced up at Anne and asked, "The cardboard box as well?"

“Please,” she nodded.

He slid the knife through the box with some well-practiced moves, cutting all four corners and through the top, until the box fell open like the petals of a flower, cascading small pieces of polystyrene packing across Red’s carpet and revealing the elegantly-crafted yet otherwise unremarkable wooden chest hidden inside.

“Wonderful, thank you,” smiled Anne, and the man nodded as he slipped the blade away. “Red will see you out.”

Her name gave him permission to look at her again, and this time it was from an angle. His gaze dropped slightly, and Red knew he could see the full shape of her perfect breast, tipped with pinkness of her pointy nipple. “After you, miss.”

Red led him to the door and he walked in step beside her, his eyes roaming over her blatantly, no longer trying to hide the frankness of his gaze.

“Thank you for helping us,” Red said politely as she opened the door, intending it as a dismissal.

“It was my pleasure,” he said, stepping through, stealing glances at her even as she closed the door.

“Well that was nice of him, wasn’t it?” Anne suggested cheerfully. She tapped her fingertips on the wooden box. “Shall we see what we have here?”

Red retraced her path across the carpet, chewing nervously on her lower lip. “Please Anne, may I get dressed before further visitors come?”

“Oh, don’t bother with that now. We really haven’t the time. Come here, please.”

Red made her way towards Anne, dismayed that her request had been brushed aside so dismissively. She mustered the courage to try again. “Please, may I adjust my kimono?” her request was timid, tentative.

Anne fixed her with a stare. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I… I feel exposed,” her voice filled with unease.

“Yes, and?”

Red swallowed nervously; that had hardly been the encouraging response she’d hoped for. “You… you said we were having other visitors.”

Anne nodded, “Yes. And?”

Did Anne require her to spell it out? Red hesitated a moment before finding the words. “Um… they might… see… um… me,” she finished, her voice trailing off weakly.

“Yes. And?”

She needed more?! Red considered. “It makes me feel… uncomfortable.”

“Oh, does it?” Genuine-sounding surprise. “Why?”

“Because… because I’m practically naked,” her voice trembled.

“Not really, dear.”

“Well… um… bits of me are.”

“Yes, well that’s true.” Anne acknowledged, her gaze briefly drifting towards Red’s almost-exposed nipples as if to emphasise the point. “But why does it matter to you?”

With an effort, Red suppressed a sigh. “Because having strange men’s eyes on my nakedness makes me uncomfortable.”

“Does it indeed? Why’s that?” Anne seemed genuinely curious.

“I… I don’t know, it just does.” Red admitted, her confusion and agitation evident as she cast her gaze downward.

“That’s not much of an answer, dear. If that’s the best you have, I think the robe can stay as it is.”

Red glanced up, alarmed. “But… but it makes me feel so objectified!” she blurted out, “As if… as if all they want to do is feel the curves they so lewdly stare at...” she trailed off, her tone bitter as she reflected on the many men of her acquaintance who saw her only as a rich trophy wife. “I don’t want to be revealed like this to strange men. What if I couldn’t stop them touching me?”

Anne smiled slowly, and her eyes held Red’s. “Would you have liked the man to touch you?” Red’s eyes widened at the forwardness of her question, but Anne wasn’t finished. “Did you want him to push your kimono off your shoulders and bare your nakedness to his eyes? Did you want to feel his hand on your breast, groping and squeezing it? Did you want him to slide a hand between your legs?” Red’s head began to shake in denial, but Anne had one more thing to say: “Answer me honestly.”

“Yes… yes I did!” and she whimpered her own arousal and shame at the admission that Anne had forced from her.

“Well then, dear,” Anne smiled sweetly, “I don’t really see the point of adjusting the kimono, do you? It’s serving its purpose precisely, isn’t it?”

Another knock on the door punctuated Anne’s sentence.

“Ah! What fortuitous and ironic timing!” Anne declared. “Would you get that, please, dear?”

With alarm, Red glanced towards Anne, but her feet were already taking her back to the door. Another stranger into her apartment! And what was in the packages Anne had ordered?

She swallowed nervously as her hand reached once again for the latch, but hesitated and took a deep, steadying breath. If she was going to reveal her near-nakedness to whomever was fortunate enough to be on the other side, at least she could do so with her pride. She lifted her chin, blinked a few times, and took another breath. Then she opened the door.

Her barely-found confidence faltered immediately as she came face to face with a group of half a dozen workmen. Each one of them stared at her in surprise, their eyes roaming over her nearly naked body.

“Well!” the man who had knocked said, a grin slowly developing as he deliberately ran his eyes up and down, “You must be Ms. Sinclair.”

“…Yes,” her voice barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve come with the mirrors.” He jerked a finger over his shoulder, and Red saw that several of the men carried large, thin, flat objects, wrapped carefully in bubble wrap and brown paper. “Expecting us, right?”

“Let them in, please, dear.” Anne’s voice had its usual effect on Red’s body, and she found herself stepping to the side, leaving the door open wide for the men.

The first man stepped into her apartment, but paused next to her. One hand came up, faster than Red could react, and his fingers grasped her chin. His touch was gentle but she could feel the strength in his fingers, and her breath caught in her throat with surprise.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he grinned at her as he gave her chin a playful little shake.

That he dared to touch her so, to take such liberties with her! Under any normal circumstances, she would have slapped him and reported him, and maybe thrown a tantrum until everyone around her was grovelling an apology. But these circumstances were far from normal: she’d invited him into her house; she was scantily dressed, her body on display to him; yet worse than that, she had admitted to Anne just some moments before that she’d longed for the man to touch her… to push the robe fully off her shoulders, baring her nakedness, or to probe crudely between her legs and discover how wet she was.

Red didn’t know why she hungered for such things, only that she did; and now this man had grasped her face as though he had every right. Would he do more? Would he go further?

The man was watching her intently, and Red knew that something of her thoughts had played across her face, written in the intensity of her emotions. He had seen it all. But then he simply dropped his hand and Red felt a wave of disappointment at the thought that he’d finished with her. But he hadn’t quite: he leaned in, deliberately changing his angle so he could see, unimpeded, inside Red’s kimono, his eyes running over her exposed breast as his grin widened.

“Nice robe.”

Anne cleared her throat pointedly from behind Red, her disapproval evident, conveying her dissatisfaction with the man's audacity.

Undeterred by Anne's reaction, the man confidently entered Red's apartment, followed by the other men who carried their packages with them. Some packages were sizable enough to require the assistance of two men, their efforts clearly visible as they strained to carry them. As they passed by, their gazes lingered on Red, their eyes repeatedly tracing her form. Occasionally, a man would greet her with a flirtatious "Miss" or a suggestive "Cutie," further fuelling Red's embarrassment.

Red knew that any one of them could reach out and touch her. She trembled in anticipation, yet not one of them made a move toward her. Disappointed, dejected, and consumed by shame for her own desires, she left the door open and made her way back to the relative safety of Anne’s presence.

The foreman, who had approached Anne, stood and watched Red with a grin bordering on a leer. “My name’s John. You ladies order some mirrors?”

“Indeed,” Anne’s tone seemed to emphasise her cultured accent, as though she was trying to separate herself disdainfully from the workmen who now filled Red’s apartment. “I believe you know where they are to go?”

“Well,” John scratched his stubble covered chin and glanced around the room. “I know about the big one, sure, though that light’ll have to come out.”

“Yes, that’s fine.” Anne confirmed, while Red wondered which light he meant; she was particularly fond of the wall sconces, and she hoped they wouldn’t make too much mess.

“As for the others… symmetrically around the bed, right? Angled as we discussed?”

“Essentially, yes.” The man’s cavalier attitude didn’t seem to impress Anne. “Can I trust you to use your professional judgement, or do you require me to provide specific direction?”

“Nah, we’ve got it. We know our shi… business.” He grinned again, and Red couldn’t help think he was actually quite charismatic, despite his rough manner. “We’ll get straight on with it.”

“And the pulley with the hook,” Anne prompted.

John’s eyes flicked towards Red before retuning to Anne, as though whatever Anne had meant affected Red somehow. But of course it does, she thought. “Yep, the hook and pulley too. Not really our area, but easy enough to do. In the middle somewhere, right? Away from the bed?”

“Precisely that.”

He nodded. “Kinky. Got it. We’ll crack on.”

“Very well,” Anne nodded, and John winked at Red before returning to his men.

The men were efficient, Red saw quickly. Some of them quickly wrapped her bedroom in dust covers while others went out through the open door, presumably to fetch more equipment. One of the men picked up her discarded bra, a mischievous grin on his face as he briefly glanced in Red’s direction, causing her cheeks to flush with embarrassment. But a stern word from John prompted the man to set it aside and resume his tasks.

Red clearly hadn’t been privy to Anne’s plans, but evidently everything had already been decided. She couldn’t help but be impressed by how efficiently Anne had organised everything, and if she wasn’t exposing herself to a room of unfamiliar men, Red would have been curious to observe their work.

“Let’s leave them to it,” Anne suggested as she sat on one of Red’s sofas, her back to the bedroom and the working men. “Why don’t you open your box?”

Red had been curious about the box, but in the midst of the commotion caused by the arrival of the tradesmen, it had slipped her mind. Yes, ‘excitement’ was one way to describe the current situation, Red thought as she released the sturdy latch securing the lid. She couldn't deny that there was an element of excitement to it all, not least the state of her body. The men would occasionally glance in her direction, and she was aware that even from across the apartment they were catching glimpses of her near-nudity.

The other men returned, carrying several ladders between them and a couple of hefty-looking toolboxes.

"Red," Anne nudged her, bringing her attention back. She started, realising she had been staring at the men. "The box, if you will.”

“Yes, Anne.” Red obediently opened the lid, peering inside.

The box had a luxurious velvet lining, showcasing its exquisite craftsmanship. Cut into the lining were carefully proportioned slots to accommodate the contents. While the box itself had a timeless charm, the contents inside had the untouched shine of things that were new. Red glanced quickly through, and it took her a moment to recognise what she was seeing. Then she gasped, and looked at Anne in surprise.

“Perhaps you should unpack it. One at a time, if you please.”

Red chewed on her lip as she nervously reached for the first item; it lay across the top of the box, hiding some of the other objects beneath it. She lifted it out carefully, curious. It was quite heavy, well-made, comprising a circular bar an inch or two in diameter, with another one inside, allowing for extension or retraction. Two steel rings adorned the ends while a solid-looking dial occupied the middle.

“Do you know what that is?” Anne asked.

“No…” Red turned it over again, and experimented by turning the dial. The bar slowly extended, locking at each point until she turned the dial again.

Her naivety appeared to amuse Anne. “Spreader bar. The rings are for the cuffs you should find next.”

Red blinked in shock and placed the bar carefully down on the coffee table. Why would she need a spreader bar? The cuffs followed, as Anne had said; a larger pair for ankles, a smaller pair for wrists. A matching set in a high-quality and supple leather, lined with sensuously-soft suede, complete with rings and locks that would match those on the spreader bar.

“A little noise, ladies,” John’s voice called out across the room, and Red realised that for a moment she’d all but forgotten they were there. She glanced up. Her room had been swiftly wreathed in dust sheets, the ladders were extended, and two members of John’s team were armed with power tools. It took them but a few moments to unfasten Red’s beautiful chandelier from over her bed, and a moment longer to carefully detach the wiring.

Red still hadn’t quite worked out what their goal was, but the gaping hole in her ceiling was an eyesore.

“Carry on, Red.” Anne’s voice pulled her attention back.

Red continued to unload the box, placing each item on the coffee table as she did. After the cuffs, Red discovered a large metal butt plug with a red-rose jewel in its tip, an egg vibe with a remote control, a riding crop, a leather-handled flogger with two-dozen long suede strands, a ball gag, several bundles of shibari jute rope, a bottle of lube – thoughtful – and a bundle of cable ties.

With each new item, Red’s trepidation grew in tandem with Anne’s amusement, until at last the box was empty and the coffee table was full.

“Good.” Anne gestured to the carpet before her feet. “Kneel here, dear.”

Red slipped gracefully to her knees before Anne, her kimono rucking up slightly as she did so.

Anne slipped her feet free of her shoes, and placed one bare foot on Red’s lap. “A foot massage would be delightful. Be so kind, dear.”

Red took Anne’s foot in her small hands, pressing her thumbs into her sole as Anne sighed with pleasure. “Which of your presents do you like best?”

Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Red considered the items on the table. She’d never seen most of them before, and though she owned a vibrator or two, it seemed trite to choose the egg vibe merely on the grounds of familiarity. For a moment she considered picking the lube, but Anne hadn’t shown any signs of having a sense of humour. Her eyes flicked over the butt plug, the gag, the rope… and she remembered how it felt to be tied by Steven, how relaxing she’d found it.

“The rope, I think,” her voice quiet as her hands continued to massage Anne’s foot.

“Ahh yes,” Anne nodded, “there’s a comfort in being restrained, is there not?”

Across the room several electric drills started up in tandem, distracting Red. She was able to see the ceiling of her bedroom over the back of the sofa on which Anne sat, and her eyes widened. Several men were holding an enormous mirror against the ceiling, while the power tools made short work of affixing it.

Red looked up at Anne, her eyes wide. “You’re… putting a mirror over my bed?”

Anne smiled smugly. “It seemed appropriate, don’t you think?” Anne’s other foot pushed gently against Red’s knee, and so distracted was she by the implications of a mirror positioned directly above her bed that her knees parted unthinkingly. It was only as Anne’s toes brushed lightly down her inner thigh that she realised what she’d done, and her legs began to close again. “No, no, your knees apart. In fact, a little wider, if you please.”

Red chewed nervously on her lower lip as her knees spread wider as Anne had bid, and she knew that nothing impeded Anne’s view of her core; her robe lay rucked across her lap, with insufficient material for it to fall between her thighs. Red was fully exposed. Her breath caught in her throat; Anne’s toes were inching towards her apex, and it took little imagination to deduce the older woman’s intent.

“Carry on, Red,” Anne murmured, and Red realised she’d grown negligent in her massaging duties. Her thumbs resumed their progress along Anne’s sole, even as Anne’s other foot brushed higher on her thigh, now only a whisper away from Red’s exposed, bare sex.

“Tell me, dear. Are you more aware of the men, or of me?” as she asked the question, Anne gently nudged Red’s folds with her toes, the intimacy of the touch sending bolts of sensation through Red’s body.

Red opened her mouth to answer, compelled by the imperative tone in Anne’s voice, but she hesitated. Across the room a group of six men worked, their foreman a rough, charismatic man who had already laid his hand on Red. Perhaps they could not see Red where she currently knelt, the sofa blocking most of their view, but Red was acutely aware of their presence. At any moment one might wander over to ask a question and see her kneeling all-but nude, her knees spread wide and the lips of her vulva kissing Anne’s toes.

Yet before Red sat Anne, an amused smile on her face, who had taken liberties with Red’s body from the moment she’d arrived. She’d allowed – if not encouraged – the gradual exposure of Red’s nudity, stoked her arousal, fondled and played with her breast. She’d even had Red display herself before the UPS man – Red harboured no illusions that he had seen nearly all of her.

Even as Red hesitated, still contemplating Anne’s question, compelled to answer but unable to do so until she had an answer to give, Anne’s toes pushed further forward. Her foot was gentle but insistent, caressing Red’s labia, but then Red felt herself parted, spread open, as the foot between her legs pushed between. Red felt Anne’s toes wriggle in beneath her bottom, the bridge of her foot nestling firmly against her pussy. Her lips were pushed against Anne’s skin, and more than anything the contact served to remind Red of just how aroused she was, and had been for so long. She was wet, she was drenched, and her juices were being deliberately spread by Anne, over the top of her foot.

“I… I can’t answer. I can’t decide,” Red lifted pleading eyes to Anne’s face, her breath catching in her throat as again Anne ground against her.

“Perhaps because you are equally aware of both me and the men.”

“Yes,” Red gasped, “yes, that’s right.”

“Mmm, how interesting,” Anne murmured. “Did you like it when I touched you earlier?”

“Yes, I did,” Red whispered, unaware that Anne hadn’t compelled her to reply, and that she had admitted it of her own volition.

Anne nodded thoughtfully. “And now?” even as she asked Red felt her push her foot more firmly against Red’s spread sex.

“Yes,” Red whispered again.

“Have you been with a woman before, Red?”

“No… never.”

Another nod. Anne pulled her foot from between Red’s hands, switching it with the one between her legs. Reflexively, Red began to massage Anne’s other foot, even as the first nestled firmly up against her moist labia. The skin on Anne’s foot was damp and slick from Red’s own arousal as she held it between her fingers, pushing her thumbs firmly into Anne’s sole as she continued to provide a massage.

“You’re very good at that.”

“Thank you,” Red whispered, her reply merely a reflex.

“In fact, I’d say you are very good at kneeling naked, at my feet. And that makes me wonder, Red: what aroused you more, the touch of my hand on your breast or ass, or the realisation you would do whatever I asked of you?”

“Your control of me. The vulnerability you made me feel,” and again Red was unaware she’d answered without being compelled. She squirmed against the foot between her legs; even merely voicing those words had pushed her arousal higher.

Anne smiled. “I’d wondered as much. In the changing room yesterday afternoon, you seemed so eager to taste that horrible man’s cum. Do you recall?”

The change of subject may have been sudden, but Red would never forget that encounter; it was etched into her memory for all time, every moment of it. She nodded, unconsciously licking her lips as she remembered the taste of cum in her mouth. Steven’s too, for that matter. It hadn’t even occurred to her to question how Anne knew.

“I see you do recall,” Anne observed, and her tone was amused. “Have you always been hungry for the taste of cum, Red?”

“No… no, not at all,” Red shook her head for emphasis, recalling that, until very recently, the thought of a man’s seed in her mouth had filled her with disgust.

“And are you now? Tell me.” Anne’s imperative was not lost on Red.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she breathed, her eyes glittering as she looked up at Anne. “I love it. I didn’t always love it, but now I do. I don’t know why… but… I love the taste of it so much.”

“And behind me there are six men, all with cocks that could be used to penetrate your holes, fill you with their seed, and make you eat their cum.”

Red’s body twitched like a marionette on a string, her eyes looking past Anne and over the sofa. She whimpered at Anne’s words, her mind filled only with thoughts of the men such a short distance away.

“Would you like to crawl from my feet, pulling open your sash as you do so, and head slowly, vulnerably… nude… into the midst of all those men? Tell me.”

Red’s body trembled with lust. Merely the idea Anne had proposed had almost made her orgasm. “More than anything.” She lifted her eyes entreatingly to Anne’s. “Please, Anne, may I?”

“Tell me what you would want them to do to you.”

“Oh…” Red moaned, “grab me, pull me to them… throw me over the bed… rip off my robe… pin me down. And then use me… take my mouth, my pussy… force me to please them… use my body for their pleasure. All of them. In my mouth and in my pussy at the same time. And then… then to turn me over… to use my ass, while another uses my mouth again… until I am covered in their cum… full of their cum…” Red trailed off, her eyes wide, her skin flushed with the images in her mind.

Anne cleared her throat softly. “Would you enjoy that?”

“Yes,” an answer truthful in its simplicity, as earnest as Red could deliver it.

“Merely sex, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you such a slut, then?”

Red lowered her eyes, unable to look at Anne. “I… I didn’t used to be. The mirror has made me one.”

“Do you like it? Tell me.” And despite the command, Anne’s voice was soft, gentle.

“Yes… so help me but yes, I love it.” Red blushed with shame as she whispered her admission, unable to meet Anne’s eyes.

Behind them, the men had finished installing the mirror over Red’s bed, and she could hear them drilling into her walls. She wondered briefly what they might be doing, but the answer was so obvious it came immediately: more mirrors. And a hook and pulley, she remembered, whatever that meant.

“Last questions, as I think the men are almost done. What if I were to order you to crawl forward, between my legs, and taste me?”

Red’s eyes dropped to Anne’s skirt, where it fell across her lap covering her. “I would obey you, willingly.”

“Do you wish to?”

Red nodded, again pleading with her eyes, yet she knew she could not move until Anne had given her permission, and she remained kneeling before her, her body quivering with need.

“Think carefully on this one. Would you prefer to beg me to let you taste me, or would you prefer me to simply order you to do so?”

“I… I…” Red hesitated, her mind in turmoil. She had already shared so many of her most intimate, private desires with Anne. Yet she was still constrained by her upbringing, both parental and societal, and a girl such as she simply did not give voice to the answer Anne sought.

“Tell me, Red.”

“I would want you to make me beg… to order me to beg.” She cringed with shame. Had she not just chosen to remain quiet? A simple command from Anne, and she answered as though her reluctance was inconsequential.

Anne smiled slowly. “It is as I thought.”

Behind them the noises of construction had finished, and the men were chatting as they packed away their tools.

“Last question,” Anne spoke quickly, as if she expected to be interrupted soon. “If you had to choose between gratuitous sex with these men, and being ordered to beg by me, what would your decision be? Tell me, now!”

“Being ordered to beg!” Red whispered, her eyes wide.

Anne smiled, apparently satisfied. “You were always a perfect specimen, my dear.”

A man cleared his throat, approaching from behind the sofa. “Am I interrupting?”

“You are not to move unless I expressly permit it,” Anne hissed at Red, even as she pulled her feet from her and slipped her shoes back on. Red remained kneeling, her body trembling from arousal. “No, we were about done,” Anne replied in her normal voice.

John came around the sofa, his eyes widening as he saw Red kneeling, an easy grin spreading over his face. Red wasn’t sure what he could see from the angle at which he stood; for sure, her breasts were exposed as they had been, one probably fully given the angle of his approach and the way her kimono now gaped open as she knelt, but whether he could see between her spread knees… that wasn’t clear. It was enough, of course, that he knew her to be kneeling, legs wide. She blushed in shame, but his eyes on her pushed another tremor of arousal through her body. If Anne hadn’t insisted she didn’t move, she knew she would have crawled to him and begged to suck his cock.

Whether Anne had done her a favour or not, she couldn’t be sure.

Red's gaze followed Anne as she rose, leaving Red kneeling on the carpet like an abandoned and discarded toy.

“Are you all done?” Anne asked. Though Red couldn’t see much past the sofa, she saw some of the men whisking away the dust sheets and bundling them up with care.

“Yes; both sides, and the mirror above the bed.” He smirked at Red. “It was an interesting commission. And a rush-job, too… very rare.”

“Well well, whatever,” Anne clearly thought little of the man’s opinion. “I believe you were paid in advance?”

“Handsomely too,” John confirmed.

“Then our business is concluded. I expect you to vacate the premises swiftly.”

John bristled, his face clouding. “Right you are, ma’am, but there’s no need to be rude.”

Anne ignored him, dismissing him with a turn of her head, and John grumbled to himself as he walked back to his crew.

To Red’s surprise, Anne positioned herself directly behind her, her legs gently pressing against Red’s back. Red could feel the soothing touch of Anne's hands as they slid into her hair, a combination of gentle massage and playful twirling of her maroon locks. From her vantage point over the sofa, Anne kept a watchful eye on the men, ensuring their departure.

A moment stretched into another as Red listened to the fading sounds of the men leaving her apartment, accompanied by the comforting pressure of Anne's fingers delving deeper into her hair. The sensation was soothing, gradually easing the tension that had built up in her body, despite the lingering arousal that coursed through her. Closing her eyes, Red surrendered to the tranquillity of Anne's gentle touch, though it was difficult to relax when her body had been stimulated for so long, her desires remaining unrequited.

The apartment door shut with a resounding thud, likely a display of John's dissatisfaction at Anne's abrupt dismissal.

"Good, we're alone again. It took much longer than anticipated," Anne expressed her dissatisfaction, and Red silently hoped that her actions hadn't played a part in Anne's displeasure. However, Anne's tone softened as she glanced down at Red. "Shall we see what they've left us?"

"Please," Red replied, her response clipped with anxiety as she anticipated seeing the mirrors that had been installed.

"Oh, one moment before you do," Anne interjected, swiftly crossing behind the sofa. "You need to see it at its best, and it's getting murky in here." After a brief pause, all the sconces flicked on, flooding the apartment with light. "Too much," Anne muttered, locating the dimmer switch to soften the lights into a gentle glow. Anne reappeared from around the edge of the sofa.

"Up you get then," she said casually, and Red smiled with gratitude. She had been given permission to move, and it felt like a hidden force had been lifted. Surprisingly, Red felt light on her feet as she pushed herself up from the floor. Even her legs didn't feel too stiff, despite kneeling for so long.

She gasped in awe as she laid eyes on her bedroom. Even from a distance, the mirrors were impossible to miss. The entire room was visible from where she stood, illuminated by the soft light bouncing off the mirrors. Placed strategically on the walls were four large mirrors angled to reflect Red’s bed as the obvious centrepiece. Below each mirror was another, angled toward the ceiling mirror directly above the bed. Red envisioned that when lying down, a slight tilt of her head would allow her to see one or more of the wall mirrors, each in turn enabling a captivating, elevated reflection of the entire bed through the ceiling mirror. She shivered at the implication: there would be no avoiding seeing what was happening on the bed, and from numerous angles.

With cautious steps Red approached her bedroom, then paused mid-step as there was yet another knock on the door.

“Oh, finally!” Anne exclaimed with more than a hint of exasperation. “I thought it would never arrive! Don’t worry dear, I’ll take care of this,” she said as she made her way to the door, “You go ahead and take a look inside.”

Red smiled gratefully in Anne's direction before making her way slowly into her bedroom. As she entered, her reflection appeared and multiplied across each mirror, offering her a multitude of perspectives. The arrangement of the mirrors was simple yet ingenious, allowing Red to observe herself from any corner of the room. However, it was clear that the primary focus of the mirrors was her bed.

Against one wall they’d mounted a small electric motor, rope wound around its drum and fed up to a ring affixed in the ceiling. From there dangled a pair of pulleys, the rope wound between, terminating in a hook. Red glanced at it curiously; it looked for all the world like the sort of thing one would find in a butcher’s shop, to suspend a slab of meat… Oh. She looked away, her unease growing.

She paused before one of the mirrors, examining her own reflection. Her kimono was in complete disarray, revealing much of her nakedness. Her nipple on one side had slipped free, the other only barely covered, while the gap at the bottom showed a hint of her vulva even when she stood quite still. Yes; she didn’t fancy facing another delivery man exposed as she was.

She made her way into the middle of her bedroom, close to the bed, the mirrors all around her reflecting her scantily-covered nudity. She paused, contemplating the portent of all her new mirrors (and the hook) while Anne dealt with the late arrival. The sound of their exchange reached Red's ears, with Anne reprimanding the man and receiving a half-hearted apology in return. Soon, the door closed once more, leaving Red and Anne alone again.

As Red looked around, she couldn't escape the reflections of herself and the unmade bed in the mirrors that surrounded her. She swallowed nervously; the mirrors were beautiful, the workmanship perfect, but to Red it meant nothing less than full exposure, full control.

"How do you like it?" Anne inquired, unwrapping a substantial package and leaving a trail of discarded brown paper on the carpet as she moved closer. She glanced inside, assessing the contents to her satisfaction before letting the package fall to the carpet. Evidently the contents were neither fragile nor weighty.

"It's... beautiful," Red replied with a touch of apprehension, her eyes shifting between Anne and the mirrors, trying to avoid looking at the hook but seeing it dangling forebodingly in every reflection. "But also somewhat daunting."

“Most of the beauty comes from you, my dear. Why don’t you remove that kimono, now – it’s hiding so little anyway – and lie down on the bed.”

Red’s fingers fell to the sash at her waist even before Anne had finished talking, pulling it free and letting it fall to dangle either side of her. In the many mirrors, the front of Red’s nude body was reflected around the room.

"We don't need this," Anne declared, swiftly removing Red's rumpled duvet and leaving it discarded on the floor, leaving only the sheet below. Red’s kimono landed on the floor at the same time, and now in every mirror she could see herself fully nude, for each mirror was angled to reflect another, showing Red from multiple perspectives wherever she looked.

Anne circled around the bed while Red approached it. "Or these," Anne commented, swiftly removing Red's pillows and tossing them onto the discarded duvet. She smiled at Red, her eyes running casually over her nakedness. “There, aren’t you beautiful? All we need is you.”

Red carefully crawled into the centre of the empty bed, surrounded by her numerous reflections. It was unnerving, seeing herself in so many ways, even more so knowing that at any moment, one of them might wink at her. Or worse.

Her pulse was racing, her heart beating fast in her chest.

Anne appeared to have noticed her growing anxiety. “Lie down, dear,” Anne encouraged her. “With every passing moment you’ll feel more relaxed, and so much happier with your new setup.”

It was as if Anne’s words were exactly what Red needed to hear, for she immediately felt calmer. Indeed, the mirrors Anne had chosen suited the décor of her apartment perfectly, and they really did look beautiful.

She stretched out on her bed and rolled onto her back, looking up at the mirror directly above. It showed the entirety of her bed to perfection, her own body nude in the centre, pale against her dark-blue sheets, and the clarity was flawless. That mirror was stunning too, and so large; Red found herself relaxing further as she admired it. Even her reflection was beautiful, she had to admit; she had always been secretly fond of her body but rarely had she been fully nude, and never arrayed like this. Always in bed she’d worn something – at least, prior to yesterday. Her vulva, too, perfectly bare, carried its own beauty, as the mirror had shown her back in the changing room; was it really only just the previous day? So much had happened.

“How do you feel? Better?”

Red considered. She was certainly much more relaxed than she had been a few minutes previously, and couldn’t remember the reason for her consternation. “I feel quite fine, thank you.”

Anne nodded, smiling. “Don’t forget… this bedroom is a most exciting place now. Whenever you are in here, whether by yourself or not, as the case may be,” Red blushed slightly at that implication, “you will realise how beautiful it is, how erotic the possibilities, how sensual a creature you are, and how much you like to see yourself nude in the mirrors.”

It was true, Red realised as she listened to Anne. The room had been enhanced significantly, and the mirrors added tempting possibilities. Slowly, she trailed her hand down her own body, fingers spreading across her skin. She turned her head to look in one of the wall mirrors, seeing her reflection side-on, but also, in the lower angled mirror, a reflection of herself from above. It was as if she was watching an erotic film where she was the star, and it was deliciously sensual. Her fingers dipped between her legs, exploring her arousal, and it was like watching a stranger touch herself in all the reflections about her. She shivered with pleasure.

“If you’re in here with others,” Anne spoke softly, her voice resonating with Red’s emotions, “at first you will feel reluctance. They may have to force you, to order you or compel you; you will resist, but only so that your final capitulation is that much sweeter. You will rile against them, you will struggle, you will deny them much – but not all – of what they wish from you. But as time passes, you will grow more compliant, more responsive to their desires.”

She paused, walking around the bed, still watching Red pleasure herself.

“Ultimately, your pleasure is achieved through theirs. When you bring them rapture, your own ecstasy will be that much greater. The longer you are with someone here, the greater will be your desire to please them, until there will be nothing you want more than their happiness, and nothing you won’t be willing to do to achieve it. When they are satisfied, your reward will be great.”

Anne stood near the bed, observing her intently, and Red suddenly realised she was on display. She needed to put on a show, to demonstrate to Anne how much she appreciated all Anne had done. Anne had been with her most of the afternoon, and in all that time, had Red really shown her how important she was? She would make up for it now. Anne liked to watch her; she knew that much. She found Anne’s eyes with her own, holding her gaze in the most intimate of ways as she slowly spread her legs wide, revealing herself fully. She had a burning need to share herself with Anne, in any way that Anne might wish of her.

She spread her fingers against her own sex, opening herself fully to Anne’s gaze, revealing how wet she was, the inner-most pinkness of her core, the most intimate part of her. And as Anne watched, she slowly pushed her middle finger inside herself, keeping herself held open as she did so as to not impede Anne’s view, and a small whimper of desire, of need, slipped from her lips.

“Perfect,” murmured Anne. “Turn over for me, dear.”

Red slipped her hand from between her legs, turning swiftly, eager and willing to please. Her head looked to the mirrors at her side, seeking her reflection. Slowly she extended her arms up the mattress, her fingers winding sensuously around the iron bars of her headboard.

“Exactly like that. Hold still, please.”

Red didn’t feel a need to move for any reason; if Anne wished her like this, then this was how she would remain.

Anne silently moved away, her steps gliding across the plush carpet, yet Red's eyes remained fixed on her through the myriad of mirrors. Observing Anne's graceful movement towards the coffee table, Red could feel the heightened rhythm of her pulse, a delightful anticipation building within her; this was a sensual room, and Anne was right to have brought Red all those gifts. She would doubtless need every one of them if she were to fully realise the erotic potential Anne had envisioned.

She watched Anne returning in the mirrors, a collection of items clutched in her hands. Red felt her arousal rekindle as Anne approached, almost as if her stepping away had been a loss Red hadn’t realised until that moment. Her mere proximity caused Red’s pulse to accelerate.

“Let’s start with these,” and Red felt Anne’s fingers on one ankle, followed by the feel of supple leather. A metallic chink followed as Anne fastened the cuffs in place with a tiny padlock. The cuffs she’d ordered were of the highest quality, and the fit around Red’s ankle was snug but comfortable. Red purred with pleasure at the thought of Anne equipping her as she wished, and couldn’t wait to discover what she might wish to do next. Anne grasped Red’s other ankle, fastening the second cuff in place as she had the first, another small padlock affixed. “These look good on you,” she murmured, and Red saw in the mirror that she was right: the cuffs and their locks added a fitting sense of ownership to Red’s nudity.

Anne moved around the bed until she could reach Red’s wrists, wrapping them tightly in the last pair of cuffs. Red saw that the cuffs were adjustable, slotting over themselves and fastened with a simple popper, while the padlock slipped through a metal hoop, holding the cuffs securely. A second, larger hoop remain unused – presumably Anne would address that too, in time.

“Hmm, what next. I think…” Anne murmured to herself as she returned to the foot of the bed, and the collection of items she’d left beside Red’s feet. “Yes, perfect.”

Red felt Anne tugging at one ankle cuff as she attached something through its hoop, the same repeated with the other ankle. It felt like something was weighing down her legs a little, and she recognised it as the spreader bar.

“Now… how wide…” Red heard the dial click through its traction and her ankles were pushed slightly outwards. She watched in a mirror, seeing her reflection into the mirror above her bed, as her legs were slowly forced apart. “Hmm,” Anne murmured to herself, “we need…”

Anne retrieved the package she had casually dropped earlier and swiftly removed the remaining packaging. Unveiled was a large, wedge-shaped cushion, leaving Red intrigued and curious about its purpose.

“Lift your hips, please, dear.” Red complied eagerly; it was so fulfilling to show Anne how willing she could be. Anne slid the wedge beneath Red’s hips, taking care to ensure it was centrally placed. “Lie down again, please. Keep your thighs against the wedge.”

Red obeyed, feeling the pillow tilt her pelvis forward, her back angling down, her hips elevated. In the mirrors it looked like she was offering herself, and that was perfect – it was exactly how she wished to present herself for Anne.

Anne had returned to the foot of the bed, and Red knew that her view was much improved. The dial clicked again and again, spreading Red’s legs apart as she watched in the mirrors, seeing her vulva now prominently displayed.

“Much better,” Anne murmured, trailing one hand along the back of Red’s thigh and up over the smooth curve of her ass. Red shivered with pleasure to be touched so, her hips squirming slightly beneath Anne’s hand. “It is possibly the most perfect bottom I have seen, but…”

Anne’s hand slipped from Red’s skin and she whimpered at its loss. She appeared at Red’s side, the chrome metal plug in one hand. “Open, please, dear. I need you to make this slick for me.”

Red parted her lips, enjoying the opportunity to look up directly at Anne, rather than watching her reflection. The plug was cool on her tongue and an alien feeling in her mouth, but there was pleasure to be gained from being penetrated by Anne, and she moaned softly as she licked and sucked on it. “You look cute with a plug in your mouth, dear.” Red squirmed with delight at her words.

Anne pulled gently, and Red let the plug slip from her mouth. She laid her head back on the mattress, her bottom wiggling slightly in anticipation of feeling Anne’s hands on her again. She watched in the mirror as Anne stroked her ass. “You really do have quite a lovely bottom.” The plug was cold as she pushed it against Red’s puckered hole, and she forced herself to relax. It was quite a large plug; it had filled her mouth and she knew it would stretch her.

Red could not help but gasp as Anne pushed, the tip of the plug slowly penetrating her, each further inch stretching her more. Her breathing became ragged as she tried to avoid a whimper of discomfort; Anne wanted this, and she was determined to accept it willingly and without protest. In the end, it proved almost too much; her ass was too tight, the plug too large, and a small cry escaped her lips. But Anne didn’t seem disappointed and with a final push, the plug slipped fully in, the jewelled base nestling between her cheeks.

“Good girl,” Anne patted her bottom, and Red felt another surge of pleasure. Her ass felt fuller than… well, since Steven had fucked it just the night before, but that too seemed such a long time ago, and she could just make out the red of the jewel in the mirrors’ reflection. It matched her hair perfectly; a thoughtful touch.

“Almost there,” Anne muttered, and Red gasped as Anne touched her exposed sex with her fingers for the first time. Perhaps Anne intended to play with her there, and she tried to envision how she must look, her legs held apart by the spreader, her ass raised and her hips tilted forwards, as if in offering. Her vulva would be prominently on display, easily accessible, and Red could think of no better way to present herself for Anne’s pleasure.

Gently Anne parted her labia, the sensation electric, sending pleasure through her body, and she shivered with bliss as Anne pushed something firm and egg-shaped inside her moist canal. Another pat on her ass, and Anne moved beside her, showing Red what she held in her hand. “Remote control, five settings. Let’s start with one, shall we? It’s quite a powerful little thing, this model.”

She pushed the button and Red jerked in surprise, moaning softly as her body trembled. Anne stayed beside her for some moments, watching the play of emotions across Red’s face. “How does that feel, dear?”

Red gasped softly as she tried to speak. “…It feels…” arousing, artificial, intrusive, sensuous… “…pleasant, thank you…”

“Oh good, that’s nice. I wouldn’t think you’d reach orgasm on level one. Level five, mind you… well. Let’s leave it at level one.”

Anne returned to the coffee table as Red watched in the mirror, chewing on her lip as the vibe continued to send tingles through her body, stoking her already significant arousal. It wasn’t enough to take her higher, but it was far too much to ignore; she whimpered as she clenched around it, but that seemed to make little difference.

Anne was back, the flogger, paddle, rope, and ball gag in her hands. These she left on a small table near the foot of Red’s bed, easily within reach.

“A couple of final touches, I think…” she took Red’s right wrist by the cuff and cable-tied the hoop to the headboard. “That should hold you.” Red tugged experimentally, but the cuff hardly moved at all. “I’ll leave these spare ones on the table, I think,” Anne muttered, as if to herself.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

Red glanced at her in the mirror, then caught sight of herself from the reflection in the mirror above her bed. Her ass was up in the air, the butt plug twinkling red. One wrist bound, her legs held wide by the spreader bar. Her sex, gratuitously on display, pulsed in time to the vibe inside it, and with the pillow beneath her and her ankles bound, she was restrained and displayed. She whimpered softly at her reflection.

Anne pulled an iPhone from the pocket of her suit jacket and took pictures from various angles; Red heard the phone click several times as Anne slowly crossed behind her. “Lovely.”

Once more Anne returned to her side, kneeling beside the bed so she could more closely watch Red’s face.

“The thing is, Red, your willing subservience isn’t of much interest to me. I want to see you humiliated, shamed, and begging to be allowed to come.” Red whimpered at her words, her eyes full of longing. She desperately wanted to please Anne, but the older woman had just told her she wasn’t interested. She didn’t know what to do, and the pain of her helplessness was vivid.

“I so much enjoyed watching you being abused by that horrible shop keeper yesterday afternoon,” she smiled at Red’s surprise, “Oh yes, you see: I can watch through the mirrors, too.” She laughed slightly, enjoying the shock on Red’s face. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Red. There is a degree of compulsion in what I do – quite a large degree, actually. I could have you merely submit, in every single way, but where would the fun be in that?”

She pulled another phone from her pocket. “This is called a Nokia 3310. I wouldn’t expect you to know that: it’s almost as old as you are. This one still works; please take good care of it, I might want it back. You might notice it has a very small screen; no internet access here, no texts either. I’ve pre-programmed it with a single number; no other number will work. Well, 911 probably works too, and however much you might like several burly fireman to find you like this, you are not to dial it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Anne,” Red whimpered, as the full helplessness of her situation was made apparent to her.

“I’m just going to leave it here, beside your hand. You can use it whenever you like; I wouldn’t wait too long, if I were you, for there’ll be no escape otherwise.”

She rose, giving Red a smile. “For the avoidance of doubt, you are not to attempt to move from your current position until given permission to do so.” Anne trailed her fingertips over Red’s bottom and made as if to leave.

“Wait! Please!” Red cried out in desperation, though she hardly knew what she could say.

Anne paused, turning. “Yes? You may ask one question.”

Red hesitated; it was difficult to form a coherent thought in her current predicament, let alone an intelligent question. “Whose number is it?”

“Hmm, a surprisingly pertinent question. Do you remember Alfie? Never mind, I know you don’t. He remembers you, though. He doesn’t live too far away, does he? Don’t worry, I’ve already told the concierge to expect him.”

Anne smiled again and gave Red’s bottom a little pat.

“I’ll be leaving you now. I do hope you have a very pleasant evening. I’ll be watching, of course.”

Anne hummed a little tune as she flicked the latch off the door and let herself out, the door closing lightly behind her.

Red sobbed once, eyeing the phone beside her hand.

The vibe continued to gently buzz.

* * *